Guilt Trip
by Whitewash
Summary: After a freak accident in which Tsubasa gets stitches, Maho invites her out to ice cream out of guilt, as per usual. There, they learn that revelations aren't confined to huge moments of self discovery. Sometimes you don't need even need to say anything.


Maho had decided a long time ago that she didn't want to be the best anymore, as long as she had friends. Sort of. To be frank, she considered all of the them weird, especially Miyazawa and Shibahime. But. Eh. As life had it, bad things had to be thrown her way. It just wasn't her week.

"I want this one."

"Then ask for it. I'm not ordering it for you."

"But you're paying for it."

"I know."

Tsubasa Shibahime's various condescending glares at the one person who had given her a deep, gaping wound in her left arm were, in fact, quite justified. A large bandage and stitches covered the cut, considered too deep for regular adhesive bandages and every time Maho caught it in her line of vision, that bothersome feeling of guilt bore a hole in her head.

It was her fault, though, wasn't it? The freak accident was only the result of bad luck, bad timing, and ignorance to where she put her sharp things.

Ignorance. Ugh.

It was the only reason Maho would be caught dead with Shibahime at a snack bar treating her to... anything she wanted (sadly), because, technically, she had been the one to grace her with that glaringly large cut.

Shibahime, as close to feral as she could have been, pointed to what she wanted on the menu to the person taking their orders. Maho refused to get anything.

"It's supposed to be my treat," she explained to the other girl in disinterest. "And besides, I know you're going to be burn a hole in my wallet by the end of this, so I'd rather not."

Shibahime gave her a sideways glance. "You know well," she muttered.

For a while, there was awkward silence, then Maho turned around to the glass panel directly behind her. The scene outside painted a dismal, gloomy-looking picture. The skies were ominously dark, people were already dragging umbrellas along with them and rushing to get to shelter, and the buildings looked no less looming than they did when their skeletal frames had been erected.

The tinker of glass against wood. Whatever Shibahime had ordered was here, wasn't it? Maho didn't want to turn around, but did against her better intuition.

She couldn't see Shibahime's head. What the shorter girl had ordered was, in fact, a whole banana split. Maho didn't doubt that she wouldn't be able to finish it. Shibahime had an immense sweet tooth and could stomach enough junk food to make anyone else around her sick. It sort of made Maho wonder how she managed to stay as thin as she did.

Must have been the past hospitalization. While she herself had never sustained any serious injuries, it seemed plausible that all the various injections, therapy, and exercise Shibahime had to do after... running into a stone wall on a skateboard, she'd remain rather skinny. Not to mention that she wouldn't be able to eat as much candy as she usually did.

"Izawa," said Shibahime.

Maho looked up, distracted. "Mm?"

She prodded the ice cream with her spoon. "Do you want some?"

Maho shook her head. "No thanks."

Shibahime scooped some up and shoved it into her mouth, gulping it down almost instantaneously. "Good," she mumbled, "'cause I'm not giving you any."

Maho sighed inwardly. That was typical of Shibahime, wasn't it? Hoarding her food like a dragon and then swallowing it all down. But it wasn't as if _she _wanted any. It was just her fantastic feeling of guilt that brought them here. Otherwise, she would have been at home, finishing her homework.

She'd find someway to do it later.

"Izawa," said Shibahime.

She looked up again. "What is it?"

"You're staring at me again." Shibahime had managed to down half of her split, now.

"I'm sorry. I'll look somewhere else." Maho, who had been resting her chin in her head, shifted it so that she'd be looking outside the booth instead of straight at Shibahime.

They must have looked strange sitting at opposite ends of the booth from the glances Maho managed to catch. What were they supposed to be, anyway? Sisters? Cousins? Lovers? (Hell no.) Friends? Maybe. Just... maybe. You couldn't explain it any other way, that two such entirely different people who would usually clash in so many ways that they would try to avoid each other were actually trying to cooperate.

"Izawa." That was Shibahime. She didn't even need to look.

"What is it, Shibahime?"

"I'm done."

"Are you going to eat anything else?"

Silence.

"No."

Maho turned her head. "Are you sure?"

Shibahime gave a frank nod. "Yeah. I don't want to eat anymore."

Maho looked down. "That's good. I guess you won't be burning a hole in my wallet, after all."

Silence.

"You do know why I'm refusing to eat anymore, don't you?" demanded Shibahime.

Maho looked at her. "No," she replied, a little shaken.

Shibahime slammed her hands on the table, looking as if she was about to say something. Then she relaxed, glancing at the window from the corner of her eyes.

It was raining.

She sat down.

"Well," she said, "I don't know, either. I should've asked you for more..." Shibahime continued to grumble, playing around with the spoon in her mouth.

Well... all right. Maho supposed. It really did seem as if she was going to say something important... but big revelations were as tedious as they were unthinkable and annoying, and as much as she enjoyed listening to people rattle off, it was much better listening to the _tat-tat-tat-tat _of the rain against the windows. Even if it was with someone else.

After Maho had paid the bill, they resolved to take the train back to their own respective houses.

"Shibahime, do you have any..."

Forget it. She was already staring at Maho's umbrella.

"Thanks," Shibahime muttered as they arrived at the train station. "Sometimes I like it quiet when I eat."

Really? Well, that was surprising.

"We take different lines home," added Shibahime. "So I guess I won't be seeing you until Monday."

Shibahime turned and headed in direction of the other train line... and stopped. She looked at Maho's wet umbrella, folded and pointing down at the ground.

"What is it?"

"My house is far from the train station."

"So?"

"It's raining outside."

Maho glanced at her umbrella. Then she looked down at Shibahime.

"Do you want it?"

"Wha?" Shibahime stared at it, alarmed.

It was just an umbrella...

Maho lifted up the hood at the back of her jacket. "My jacket has a hood. Even without it, I still won't get as wet as you."

Blushing, Shibahime stuttered, "N-no. I don't want your patronage."

Maho shrugged. "If it suits you." She turned it down at the floor again.

Shibahime began to stomp away... and then turned around.

"Fine," she grumbled. "But only because you'd feel bad if I didn't."

Casually, Maho handed the umbrella over to her. She swiped it away and then stomped towards the line again. But, just before she could leave, Shibahime turned around and offered her a lopsided smile.

Maho gave her the same kind in return.

And now, thinking back... Well, maybe her week hadn't been so bad, after all.

She just needed to practice smiling.


End file.
